


A Cunning Plan

by awarrington



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek (2009)
Genre: First Time, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-18
Updated: 2010-03-18
Packaged: 2017-10-08 02:43:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/71867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awarrington/pseuds/awarrington
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a series of difficult assignments in which crew were lost, Jim decides to hold a Christmas party in August, to help crew morale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Cunning Plan

Title: A Cunning Plan

Author: Amanda Warrington

Pairing: Kirk/McCoy

Rating: NC-17

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek or the characters, I just like to play with them sometimes.

A/N: Unbeta'd - all mistakes are my own.

 

Cunning Plan

“I’ve decided we’re going to hold a Christmas party in the main rec room.”

“It’s _August_, Jim,” Bones reminded him.  “That makes it,” he paused a moment as if counting in his head, “four months early.”

Jim cocked his head to one side.  “I know that, dipshit.  I didn’t get to be a starship captain without knowing when Christmas is.”

Bones looked at him, waiting for more, which after a few seconds clearly wasn’t forthcoming.  “So, would you care to enlighten me, _Captain_, why the Christmas party in the middle of summer.”

Jim shrugged.  “It doesn’t feel like summer out here in space.  And with Einstein's Law, we all know time is relative, so it _could_ be Christmas now.  Then uh…” he thought a moment, “what about quantum mechanics and parallel universes and all that.  There’s probably another reality somewhere with you and me in it and we’re sitting on a swing on your front porch in Georgia, sipping mint juleps and swapping presents because it really _is_ Christmas.

  
“And why a _Christmas_ party?” he asked again, his voice exaggerated patience as if talking to a particularly clueless six year old.

Jim leaned across Bones’ desk and poked a finger at his chest.  “I could have you for insubordination for talking to me like that, Commander.  You should have more respect for me.”

Bones scowled.  “Respect needs to be earned, Jim.”

“Oh, that’s _harsh,_ Bones.  You can be hurtful sometimes, you know that?”  He fought back the smile that was threatening.

“Will you quit fucking dissembling and tell me why a goddamn Christmas party?”

Jim grinned outright.  “My cunning plan…”

Bones refilled their glasses and sat back in his chair.

“We’ve had a pretty shitty time the last three months.  We’ve lost four crewmen, sickbay’s never been busier and now we’re on our way to Organia because some Klingons have moved in without the locals’ permission.  With those crazy fuckers, anything can happen and when it does, it won’t be good.  So…”

Bones picked up his glass and Jim did likewise, clinking them together.  “So, I want to have a party to help morale.  Everyone loves Christmas, so I thought we could just celebrate it a bit early.”  Jim knocked back half the glass of amber liquid and felt it burn as it travelled down to his stomach.  He made a loud smacking noise with his lips and Bones frowned at him.

“You do know it’s against regs to hold a Christmas party,” Bones pointed out.

Jim gave him a long-suffering looked and allowed an exaggerated sigh to pass his lips.  “That’s at _Christmas_.  We can’t celebrate it then because if we did, we’d have to celebrate every other religious festival in the Federation as well.  But we’re not _really_ celebrating Christmas, like the religious aspects, we’re just having a party with a Christmas theme.  It’ll be completely secular.  Pretty clever, huh?”

Bones rolled his eyes.  “You think you can get away with that?”

“I can and I will,” Jim said confidently and knocked back the rest of the bourbon.

-=-=-

Jim walked into rec room one and almost skidded to a halt as he took in the transformation.  A Christmas tree – where the hell had they found _that_? – stood in the corner beautifully adorned with decorations and winking fairly lights, and holly and ivy garlands hung from the ceiling and decorated the tables around the edges.  Someone had even built a santa’s grotto in one corner.

“What do you think?” Uhura asked, her eyes sparkling.  It wasn’t often Jim saw her letting her hair down.

“Awesome!” And he meant it.  “I mean this is way better than I imagined.”

“Yeah well, once everyone got used to the idea of a Christmas party in August, there was no stopping them,” she said, smiling.  “I’ve been tripping over volunteers offering help with this.  It’s going to be one helluva party, Captain.”

“So who’s going to be Santa in the grotto?  I vote for Spock.”

Jim noticed Uhura had to try to hold back a snort of amusement as she tried to look stern.  “That would be completely inappropriate, Captain, and you know it.”

Jim grinned.  “You’re absolutely right, Uhura.  He should be one of Santa’s elves with those ears.”  It was only his lightening reflexes that allowed him to dodge the punch she threw.

“I’ll tell him you said that,” she said loudly at his retreating back.  Jim turned and caught her grinning and shaking her head.  “See you tonight.”

As he walked back to his quarters feeling less stressed than he had in months, he reflected how different his relationship was with Uhura – and Spock for that matter – compared to the start of their mission.  Too many close calls, the need to watch each other’s backs on dangerous assignments, and the gradual building of mutual trust and respect had all played a part in breaking down barriers.  The bridge team had become pretty close-nit over the past year. 

In so many ways, they had all proven the doubters wrong.  Wet behind the ears though many of them had been, they had more than showed the Brass what they were made of, and while they’d lost good crewmen, they’d not only already saved literally billions of lives in that first hair-raising mission, but they’d managed to broker deals to prevent three interplanetary wars and fought off three incursions into Federation space by Romulans and Klingons without too much damage to the Enterprise and without kicking off an intra-galactic war in the process.  
   
He broke his train of thought as he entered his quarters and in need of lunch, punched in pastrami on rye with coleslaw and Russian dressing.  Never knowing quite how accurate a facsimile the replicators would produce, he bit into it gingerly and found it actually tasted pretty good.

His mind travelled back to his crew’s triumphs.  His medical team – well, Bones really, he thought warmly – had already prevented several pandemics that had saved the lives of millions.  Probably hundreds of millions, now he thought about it.

Bones, he thought with a wistful smile; a truly amazing guy.  He grinned to himself.  This was more than a little case of hero-worship, he had himself a serious mancrush and had no idea when it had begun.  At the Academy, he’d had no shortage of bed partners so if it had started then, he’d been too busy to notice.  Bones had had a few relationships during that time but each one had ended when the woman had decided to get more serious and he’d dropped them like a hot potato.  He totally got that, he himself never having spent long enough with any of his partners to have even gotten to that point.  Commitment issues.  Yeah, neither of them had ever spoken about it, because they didn’t talk about that shit, but it was true of both of them.

And that was why he’d kept his feelings to himself.  If Bones had any idea how he was feeling, because this was a lot more than brotherly love here, he’d probably freak out and then avoid him like the plague.

On the other hand, his enforced almost-celibacy was telling him he really needed a regular outlet or he’d go blind from flogging the captain’s log so much.  Crew fraternization regs – he fucking hated regs almost on principle, having been a rebel most of his life – meant he was pretty much limited to Spock, Scotty and Bones.  Not much of a choice, at least as far as the first two were concerned.  So he got his rocks off on shoreleave, or sometimes on an assignment when circumstances permitted, or with the occasional willing passenger.  Which didn’t add up to a whole lot compared to his Academy days.

But if he could convince Bones to have the occasional no-strings-attached squeeze and a squirt, he figured they could both be better off for it.  The trouble was, he didn’t know if Bones swung that way.  As far as he knew, all his partners had been female.

As if on cue, his door slid open and the object of his thoughts sauntered into his cabin.  Bones was the only one who ever walked in unannounced like that, like he owned the place.  The thought made Jim smile.  “Hi Bones,” he said around a mouthful of sandwich.

Bones face showed his disapproval.  “Didn’t anyone teach you not to talk with your mouth full?”

Jim grinned.  “Sure I was told.  But you know, me and rules.”  A few crumbs escaped his mouth as he spoke, which he brushed off his trousers.

Bones winced in disgust and leaned on Jim’s desk.  “I dropped by to let you know I may not be able to make the party tonight.”

“Why?” Jim asked, as the mouthful he’d just swallowed suddenly got lodged in his throat.

Bones walked over to the replicator and glanced at the readout which still showed the last item ordered.  “Is the pastrami any good?”

“Yeah, not bad.”

Jim watched as Bones punched in the request and for the first time, became conscious of how the doctor was as comfortable in his captain’s quarters as his own.  It had been like that at the Academy too – they hadn’t roomed together as Bones was in a Med dorm – but they’d spent a lot of time in each other’s company.

“I’ve got two ops lined up,” Bones said as he walked over to Jim’s desk with his lunch.  “Matheson from biotronics needs an emergency appendectomy which I’m just about to perform.  Chapel’s prepping him now.  And Lieutenant Cla’arth was already scheduled for an op today to repair some damage caused during that skirmish on Delta Geminii II, which she hasn’t been able to heal on her own.  I’ve been reading up on Tansavian anatomy and physiology all week for it and I don’t want to delay, so I’ve pushed it back to straight after Matheson.” 

Jim watched as Bones bit down on the sandwich and then gave it an approving look.

“Fuck.  How long will Cla’arth’s op take, any idea?  I mean, could you come along after?”

“I’ve no idea,” Bones finally said after Jim was sure he’d chewed at least twenty times.  He, on the other hand, was the kind of guy who bit and swallowed.  “But I’m counting on the fact I’m going to be pretty tired after,” he added.

Jim sighed.  Not much he could do except hope things were done quickly and he’d drag Bones, kicking and screaming if need be, even for half an hour.

-=-=-

The party was going well and Jim, after more than a few drinks, was feeling mellow.  There had already been a few surprises – he had no idea that Spock played any musical instruments until he’d gotten on the little dais they’d set up at one of end of the room and played a couple of pieces on a Vulcan lyre, and then he’d discovered Uhura had a voice, and man, could she sing!  They performed a few duets to rapturous applause.  Then Chekov had done this complicated traditional Russian dance thing with Sulu in full traditional costume – how long had they’d been rehearsing _that_?  There’d been other performances too and Jim was reminded what an amazingly talented crew he had, even more so than he’d realized.  They really were the best crew on the best ship in the ‘fleet.

When his communicator went off, he was close to the door and ducked out so he could hear the message away from the loud music.

“He’s done Captain and just changing out of his scrubs.”

Jim grinned.  Her call had come far earlier than he’d hoped.  “Christine, you’re a star, did I ever tell you that?”

“Several times, Captain, including once sober!”

Jim laughed.  “You coming to the party?”

“Yes, just handing over to the gamma shift.  Nyota said she’d save me a drink.”

“Good.  I’ll come down and get Bones.”

Jim heard Christine chuckle.  “Good luck.”

-=-=-

“Aw c’mon,” Jim pleaded, knowing his voice sounded whiney but not really caring because this was Bones and he could be himself with his friend – after all these years, the doctor must surely be used to it.  “I know you look tired—”

Bones mouth curled up into a half smile.  “Is that your way of saying I look like shit?”

Jim grinned.  “You’ll feel better when you’ve got a drink or two inside you.  Just stay for half an hour.  You’ve just done two successful ops.  Celebrate a little.”

Bones scowled.  “I notice you didn’t contradict me.”

Jim put his hands on his hips and smiled brightly.  “Are you fishing for compliments, Doctor?”

“From you?  Yeah, when hell freezes over.  And it’ll never be half an hour.”

“If I said something nice about you, you’d think that either I was being sarcastic or my mind had been taken over by aliens, so what’s the point?”  Jim grabbed Bones arm and began to pull him.  “So, get with the party already!”

As Jim knew he would, Bones cursed and muttered and complained the whole way up to rec room one but Jim could see even Bones was impressed at the trouble the crew had gone to, to decorate the place.  “Neat, huh?”

Bones eyed up the Christmas tree for a moment and then turned to Jim with a grudging smile.  “When you came up with this cockamamie idea I really thought you were having a brain fart.”

“I’m seriously hurt, Bones.  Where’s the trust?  Where’s the loyalty?  You’re going to have to make it up to me.”

They made their way over to the makeshift bar where Ensign Griatta was putting her many tentacles to good and efficient use, keeping the line to a manageable size.  Now _that_ was what Jim called multitasking.

“Drinksss, sirsss?” she asked when they reached the front.

“Bourbon for me,” Bones said.

Jim grinned at the doctor.  “And I’ll have a sloe screw against the wall.”

Bones raised an eyebrow.

“Nice choissse, sssir.”

They stood near the tree, Jim inhaling the aroma of pine which brought back memories, as he sipped his drink.

“The umbrella’s a nice touch,” Bones remarked as he watched Jim drink his cocktail.  “When did we get so well stocked on booze?”

“Scotty’s been liaising with Spock and done the requisitioning every time we’ve stopped somewhere.  It’s amazing the different types and vast quantities of alcohol needed for laboratory experiments and engineering functions.”  Jim grinned.  “The great thing is, no one questions a Vulcan.”

Bones shook his head.  “Jesus, even Vulcans aren’t immune to you,” he remarked mildly.  “You’re a bad influence.”

Jim concurred.  “In the best possible way, I might add.”

Bones snorted.

The music changed beat and Jim glanced at Bones hopefully.

“Wild horses will _not_ drag me onto that dance floor,” Bones said adamantly, “so quit with the eyelash batting, because it won’t work.”

Jim pouted.

“No.  You’ve already managed to persuade me to stay more than the half hour I said I would, against my better judgment, I might add.  But I have my limits, and dancing is beyond them.  Way beyond.”

-=-=-

“How the fuck do I let you talk me into these things?” Bones wondered aloud, as they swayed to a slow ballad, pressed close because the dance-floor was so crowded.

Jim grinned and rested his head against one of his arms about Bones’ shoulders.  This was sheer luxury getting to hold Bones so close.  It just felt so wonderful.  His friend had evidently taken a shower after he’d finished the op, because the lemony smell of soap and shampoo was still strong.  When he felt Bones adjust his arms to tighten about his waist, his smile widened.

At the end of the song, the music changed to a faster beat.  “I’m too fucking old for this,” he said gruffly.  “I need another drink.”

Jim followed him to the bar and then over to the table where he’d left his last drink.  It would soon be time for him to leave so the crew could really let their hair down.  Spock and Uhura, he noticed, had already gone.  Scotty being Scotty, he didn’t seem to intimidate the crew the way the rest of the senior officers did, so Jim knew he’d stay and keep an eye on the party and make sure things didn’t get out of hand.  As long as he could remain sober enough.

They stood against the wall, noting who was getting off with who, chatting easily and Jim was feeling more relaxed than he had in months.

Bones drained his drink.  “Right, I’m out of here.  Don’t try to change my mind because you won’t.”

“OK, Bones.”

Bones looked suspicious.  “OK?  You don’t normally give in so easily.”

“Well I am this time.  I’m ready to leave too.  I’ll walk back with you.”

At Bones door, Jim paused.  “Nightcap?”

“Yeah, come on in.”

Bones went to the cabinet where he kept his stash and poured out two drinks.  As he handed a glass to Jim, his eyes narrowed.  “What?” he asked.

“What?” Jim tried to feign innocence.”

“You’re up to something.  I can tell.”

Jim cursed the fact that Bones knew him so well he could read every facial tick as if it they were words spoken aloud.  “Well, being Christmas and all—”

“It’s not Christmas,” Bones reminded him.  “It was just a Christmas party.”

“Whatever.  Anyway, I’m a strong believer in upholding certain traditions.”

“Since when?  And what traditions?”

Jim took a needed slug from his glass and felt it warm him.  “Well, no half-decent Christmas party can end without a kiss under the mistletoe.”  With that he revealed what he’d been hiding behind his back.

“You want me to kiss you,” Bones said flatly.

“Yeah, why not?”

“Are you a few peas short of a casserole?  I can give you a hundred reasons why not.”

This was going to be harder than the earlier battle to get Bones onto the dance floor.  But Jim was nothing if not stubborn and when he had a goal in sight, he went all out for it.  He moved two steps closer to Bones.

“What are you afraid of?”

Bones looked indignant.  “I’m not afraid of anything.  I just don’t make it a habit of kissing my commanding officer.”

Jim nodded and putting his drink and the sprig of mistletoe down, removed his gold shirt.  “Right, now I’m just Jim Kirk.”  He took another step closer.

“Jim.”  Bones took a step back, but after that, there was nowhere to go as he was almost at the bulkhead.

“Hmmm?” Jim said, taking two more steps forward.  “Why fight it, Bones?  It’s only a kiss.”

“Why do you want to kiss me?”

Jim paused, and wondered what he could say that would make it OK for Bones.  “I guess I’m curious.  Aren’t you?  Don’t tell me you’ve never wondered what it’d be like to kiss me.”

Bones mouth formed a thin line, but with an inner feeling of triumph, Jim noticed he didn’t contradict that comment.

Another step and he was pressed up against his friend, as close as they’d been when they’d danced earlier.  When he looked into Bones beautiful, hazel eyes, he watched as they closed and knew he had him.  Putting one hand behind his head, he gently drew Bones to him and tilting his head a little, pressed their mouths together.

The kiss was gentle and tentative, just lips working together sensually, sending spikes of electricity to his groin.  It was Bones who deepened it, his tongue snaking out, licking along his lower lip and sucking it into his mouth.  Jim’s tongue slid against its counterpart and all of a sudden it was as if a dam had burst, as if Bones had been holding back as much as he had.  Bones put his hands on Jim’s ass and pulled them tighter together.  Jim could feel Bones’ arousal pressing against his own and shifted, pushing his hand between them to press against the firm flesh through his trousers and eliciting a shuddering groan.  It was honestly the most sexy thing Jim had ever heard and he was overcome by a feeling of triumph.

Jim had been prepared to gradually work on Bones for however long it took, never imagining that all his boundaries would come tumbling down in one go.  He pulled back from the kiss, gasping.  “Bed,” he ordered, and grabbing Bones by the hand, led him there.

They made love twice, the first time was hot, hard and hungry, the second was slow, seductive and sensual.

Afterwards, they lay facing each other, sated.  “I have a nasty suspicion, that the only reason you chose Christmas as a theme was so you could get me under the mistletoe,” Bones said accusingly.

Jim grinned but didn’t deny it.  How could he?  It was true.  Bones was an extraordinarily smart guy and very little got past him.

Bones smiled at the non-answer.  Apparently he didn’t mind all that much.

Jim yawned, feeling a post coital lassitude dragging him towards slumber.  “Why didn’t we do this sooner?” he asked.

Bones shrugged.  “Guess it was never the right time.”

“I didn’t even know if you were into men.  In all the time I’ve known you, you’ve only ever had female partners.”

“Yeah, wasn’t always like that.  Bad experience at med school kinda put me off.  I made it a rule just to stick to one half of the population after that.”

Jim leaned forward and kissed him, as if he could kiss that memory away and replace it with something so much better.  “So what changed your mind?” he asked, finally.

Jim waited wondering if Bones would answer.  This kind of talk didn’t come easily to either of them, but his curiosity won out over his reticence.

“I guess since then, I’d never met a guy I wanted enough to change that rule,” Bones said, finally.  “Not until I met the biggest asshole at the Academy.  I never did have any taste.” 

Jim grinned and he could see Bones was blushing, realizing what the gruff confession had cost him.

He gave Bones a long, slow kiss.  Then curling up beside him, he felt a protective arm wind around his shoulder.  With a contented sigh, Jim rested his head on Bones’ chest and fell asleep to the sound of his steadily beating heart.

END

 

Feedback is always welcome, either here, or on [my LJ page where this story was originally posted.](http://awarrington.livejournal.com/2584.html)


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